Oliver!
by lisliasm
Summary: Everyone at Hogwarts is in love with Harry, but he only has eyes for Oliver Wood! Watch as the humor unfolds. Please R&R! And, if you like this one, check out Transformus Gorlus (lately "The Heir of Slytherin") by yours truly!
1. As it began

OLIVER!  
  
Disclaimer: All the stuff is not ours (except the Heavenly Hunk! You'll find out about that. . .) and it probably belongs to J.K. Rowling... Yeah. There you go.  
  
*** DAY ONE ***  
Harry winced as the cold air brushed across his face. As much as he loved flying, he still preferred practicing in nicer weather. However, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Oliver Wood, would not be thwarted by high winds and snow on the ground. Instead, Wood took this opportunity - the only day in weeks without heavy snowfall - as the perfect time for the Gryffindor team to polish up before their match with the Slytherins (okay, you staunch Harry Potter fans, Slytherin vs. Griffindor IS the first game of the season, and don't gloat at your superior knowledge because we can do whatever the blazes we want! This is FAN FICTION!). That was another thing Harry didn't relish, playing the Slytherins in cold weather. His heavy breathing might fog up his glasses, giving his nemesis Draco Malfoy (yes you know him too, O arrogant ones) a chance to grab the snitch.  
As Harry swooped over the frosted pitch, he caught a glimpse of the other players, all struggling to keep from freezing due to the icy air. Only Oliver seemed poised and vigorous. Quidditch was his natural element, Harry noticed. Suddenly, as his eyes scanned the playing area, Harry saw a glint of gold, flickering near the spot where Fred and George Weasley, the two beaters, were playing with a bludger nonchalantly. Harry swooped towards the gold shimmer, narrowing his focus so that he could see all the details of the snitch's motion. He reached out his hand to anticipate a turn the tiny golden ball was making, when he was suddenly thrown off course. In fact, the thrust of sudden impact with a mysterious object threw Harry off his broom altogether. As he hurtled through space, falling helplessly towards the sparkling pillow of snow below him, he could hear the voice of George Weasley, calling,  
"Sorry, Harry! I was aiming for Fred's. . ." SPLAT! With an intense jolt of pain, Harry landed in the cold wetness. All was dark.  
***  
Swimming in blackness, Harry realized that he was no longer lying on the ground. Instead, he floated in a mysterious void, and he could hear a voice calling his name. It was a deep voice, with the sounds of heaven and earth encompassed in its godlike tone.  
"Harry. . ." The voice crooned. Was this the end? Harry wished that he would see a speck of light in this tunnel of darkness, if only so that he could find the being which possessed this voice.  
"Harry? Harry are you okay?" The voice continued. "Come on! We need you for the Slytherin match! Harry!" Now, hands like satin caressed him, gently rousing Harry into consciousness with vigorous shaking. As Harry's head bobbed maniacally, he opened his eyes to see the blurry outline of his savior.  
"Harry?" the gorgeous creature questioned.  
"Oliver," Harry gasped, his composure greatly threatened by Oliver's imposing manliness. Though Harry had never seen it before, Oliver Wood was truly an angelic being. Oliver put Harry down, now, causing Harry to emit a groan of displeasure.  
"Good, you're okay. Now, back to practice everyone!" It was at this moment that Harry finally noticed the scene. The whole Gryffindor Quidditch team was staring worriedly. Angelina Johnson seemed to be mumbling something to Katie Bell. The two girls burst into giggles. Harry figured they must be talking about some boy, but now Fred and George were giggling too. This was too weird. Harry wrenched himself up, mounted his broom, and jettisoned himself to an overhead position. He had to impress Oliver (who was rosy as ever in the cold wind, which blew his hair around fetchingly), and this was no time for giggles.  
The rest of practice went very strangely indeed. While Harry concentrated on finding the snitch, everyone else seemed to be performing badly. Several players collided with each other riding past him, and he felt the strange sensation that everyone on the team was watching him. As much as Harry usually enjoyed practice, he was glad that it was over. He was especially thrilled when Oliver asked him to go over some special new moves before the game next Saturday.  
As Harry headed, still reeling from the events of the day's practice, to the dining hall, he noticed that Quidditch was not the only strange thing afoot. When he saw Draco Malfoy and his insidious companions Crabbe and Goyle in the hallway, he expected a challenge, or at least some taunting. Instead he found them talking intently about. . . Buddy Holly? Harry wracked his brains but he could not think of any other famous person with dark hair and glasses. Crabbe actually seemed to be drooling! However, he was not sure about Buddy Holly having bright green eyes, or a scar of any sort.  
It was obviously unimportant Slytherin business. Most likely very evil and disgusting. Harry hurried towards the table where his best friends Ron and Hermione sat, trying not to think about Malfoy, or what he might be up to.  
"Hello, oh man of my dreams!" cooed Hermione in what might of been her most seductive voice, had she been in love with Harry. She was such a kidder.  
"Oh, hi, Hermione," Harry chuckled.  
"See, Hermione?" Ron said, matter-of-factly. "He has no interest in you. You're just wasting your time" Ron bit into a rather large chicken leg, and spoke with chicken bits flying across the table. Harry felt very fond of his friends. At least they were normal.  
"Do you want to hear some of my unimportant business that you always listen to without complaining and take inordinate interest in stupid things which nevertheless end up being important?" Harry asked, as he always did about this time of day. Ron and Hermione, who seemed to be arguing over who Harry liked most (silly Hermione, everyone knows that Harry shows blatant favoritism to Ron!), immediately snapped to attention, vigorously nodding their heads. "Oh good," Harry said. "Because I thought maybe you were too intent on your little conversation to notice me. . . I'm so angsty!" Ron especially looked genuinely concerned about Harry's well-being.  
"Is there anything I can do for you, angel?" Ron asked sweetly.  
"Angel!?" Hermione said disgustedly. "You're always so corny, Ron!" And then she added sheepishly, "I prefer Heavenly Hunk." Harry wondered. Was this a new flavor of ice cream? Were they serving it for dessert!? He would inquire about it later. For now, he had to tell Ron and Hermione about the weird things at Quidditch practice.  
"You can listen to my story, Ron, for starters," Harry was beginning to be annoyed.  
"Yes dear," Ron and Hermione chorused in unison (you notice that never Actually happens in real life. Ah, the magic of fiction!).  
"Now that that's settled," Harry sulked. "Anyway, I was at Quidditch practice and. . ." Suddenly, Harry's story was rudely interrupted by a clamor outside the dining hall. Someone seemed to be running with great speed, and bumping into many people on the way.  
"Harry! Are you okay!?" The headmaster Albus Dumbledore shrieked as he entered the hall. He seemed a little on edge. Harry wondered how he could have learned about his Quidditch accident, but then, as Hagrid always said, "news travels fast 'round Hogwarts."  
"I'm not injured," Harry commented, but it was too late. Already Dumbledore was asking more questions.  
"Is the food satisfactory? I can make the house elves work harder, if the food's not as good as it is supposed to be," Dumbledore rushed around the table inspecting dishes.  
"I like the food," Harry said, and then he remembered. "Are we having 'Heavenly Hunk' ice cream for dessert?"  
"What! Heavenly Hunk! I never thought of that! Why didn't I think of it!? I'll go to the kitchen right now to fix it! I love you!" Dumbledore shouted, running madly, "I mean, I love! The food! The food is great! Bye!" Dumbledore lunged towards the doors to the dining hall, opening them straight into the face of Harry's new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin. Lupin fell over, ungracefully, grunting as Dumbledore leaped nimbly over him.  
As Harry wondered listlessly what Oliver would do had he been in Harry's situation, he came to the disconcerting realization that everyone in the dining hall was staring at him, even the tattered Professor Lupin. Harry had probably provoked Dumbledore's sudden insanity by his accident, he realized with a pang of guilt. Some people seemed so worried about him that they had tears in their eyes. Malfoy, however, was looking straight at him and licking his lips. Harry hoped that didn't have anything to do with the upcoming Quidditch match. The only person who seemed to be unconcerned was Oliver Wood, who was prodding his mashed potatoes with his wand, building a magical Quidditch pitch. The excitement of the fake game made Oliver look especially attractive, Harry thought.  
As he lay in bed that night, Harry reflected on the unpleasant events of the day, hoping the next day would be better. He doubted his prospects for the following day, however, because he felt three pairs of eyes watching him in the darkness as he tried, unsuccessfully, to fall asleep.  
  
***That's it!! For now. . . . . !!!!!!*** NEXT TIME:  
Lupin gets even stranger!!!!  
Harry is late to. . . MORE THAN ONE CLASS!  
The first appearance of Sirius Black in this fic!!!  
And, last but not least, slash fans take their stand. . .finally! I know you're on the edge of your seat!!! So hold up, it's coming! A.S.A.P. or at least A. S. A. W. H. T. (As soon as we have time!) 


	2. THE SECOND DAY! MWA HA HA!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me or my sister, but after we have stolen all of Paul McCartney's money, we will announce our plans to buy the franchise from J.K. Rowling.  
  
Note #2: Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and to those lurkers who read this fic without reviewing. . . BAD, BAD, BAD! The trolls will come to get you and write "I am a pathetic loser" on your forehead in permanent marker while you are asleep.  
  
DAY 2  
Harry awoke with a sense of well-being. He thrust open the curtains surrounding his bed to find Ron beaming brightly in his direction. The sunlight streaming from the open window of the Gryffindor dormitory played attractively on Ron's delicate features. All the same, Harry could not help but be reminded of Oliver Wood, the quidditch captain. Harry imagined the look on Oliver's face were he to wake Oliver from his sleep. Perhaps Oliver would turn his head slightly so that the light would catch some parts of his face and cast dark shadows on others heightening the effect of his chiseled features. Harry imagined Oliver sitting up, his manly biceps rippling under his flannel pajama shirt. Suddenly, Harry's reverie was broken by a strange voice.  
"Good morning pumpkin," Ron said. Harry was vaguely disappointed that his imaginary Oliver had not spoken.  
"Heavenly Hunk!" shouted a voice that seemed to be coming from the girl's dormitories. Before Harry had a chance to find out who the voice belonged to, Ron interrupted, saying,  
"We'd better get to our first class, Harry. You slept so late that we'll have to skip breakfast."  
"Why didn't you wake me up?" Harry asked, noting that Seamus, Dean and Neville were already gone.  
"I didn't want to disturb your peaceful slumber, my sweet," Ron said in what should have been a soothing tone of voice. Harry wondered why Ron was acting so strangely. Was Ron hoping that Harry would buy him a better Christmas present this year? Harry realized, disconcertedly, that he had yet to buy Ron a Christmas present, and Christmas was fast approaching. Harry was bleeding rich, the least he could do for his best friend and hanger-on was to buy him a decent owl or something. I mean, really, how inconsiderate.  
"Secondly, why did you wait all this time in the dorm for me?" Harry changed the subject.  
"Of course I'd wait for you. I love you!"  
"What!?" Harry knew Ron couldn't be serious.  
"I mean I love... to sleep. C'mon."  
They dressed quickly and hurried off to Defense Against the Dark Arts, with Harry's favorite teacher, Professor Lupin.  
"Thank God we don't have Double Triple Quadruple Potions anymore," Harry commented. Ron sighed.  
"Yeah. Now Potions only lasts half the day, sweetums." As Harry and Ron walked towards Professor Lupin's classroom, Harry saw that several first years were giggling as they passed him. Harry figured they were stunned by his fame. Can't blame them for that, Harry thought. After all, I am so brave and handsome and charming and intelligent and. . . Harry looked up to realize that he and Ron had passed the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and were, in fact, halfway across the castle.  
"Ron!" Harry shrieked. "Why didn't you notice we were passing Lupin's room? You know how I can get spaced out sometimes!" Ron seemed to be looking dreamily at someone behind Harry. "And who are you looking at!?"  
"You, darling," Ron said sweetly. Harry grunted. This was no time for jokes!  
"You didn't even answer my first question," Harry griped.  
"Remind me, what was it, cupcake?"  
"That's too much! We're lost in the castle and all you can say is 'what was it, cupcake?'"  
"What did you say?" Ron batted his eyelashes.  
"What are you doing staring at me like that?" Harry was beginning to be a bit annoyed.  
"I'm sorry, I was distracted by your dazzling manliness, sweet pea." Obviously, Ron was taking this joke way too far. Harry would have to take control of the situation.  
"We're turning around and going right back to class," Harry commanded.  
"Ooooh! I love it when you take charge!" Ron seemed about to swoon. Harry decided to ignore him as they headed back to Lupin's class. It was a bit out of the way, since Ron had led Harry on quite a merry run of the castle, but Harry managed to get himself and Ron back to Defense Against the Dark Arts before the class ended. He didn't know what Lupin might say to their extreme tardiness. Lupin might think that he and Ron were cutting class out of malice, or worse, but Harry couldn't even think about the other possibilities as he and Ron entered the classroom to find several rows of students staring in their direction.  
"Oh! It's Harry (and Ron)!" Lupin exclaimed. "I'm so glad that you're not injured! I was worried!" Harry couldn't believe it. Was Lupin kidding? When was the detention that Harry and Ron should justly receive? Why hadn't Lupin mentioned it? Was he expecting Harry and Ron to read his mind? What would Filch do when they were late for detention? As if to answer Harry's questions, Lupin spoke. "I know you're half an hour late, but no matter! Go ahead and sit down! Right there!" Lupin pointed to the place where Draco Malfoy was sitting. He was wearing a look of astonishment.  
"But I'm sitting here!" Malfoy interjected. "You can't just kick me out of my seat!"  
"Technically, I can!" said Lupin in a singsong voice.  
"My father will hear about this!" Malfoy yelled. As he stood up reluctantly, Malfoy muttered under his breath, ". . .taking ten points from Slytherin when I'm late for class, but fawning over Harry like he's. . . better than me!"  
"Shh!" The smile on Lupin's face melted. "I thought we weren't going to tell Harry about that!" The smile returned. "Ten more points from Slytherin!" Lupin was acting a bit strange, and Harry wondered if Malfoy and Professor Lupin were keeping something from him.  
"But that's not fair!" Malfoy whined.  
"You keep saying that!" Lupin said, quoting David Bowie, "I wonder what is your basis for comparison!?"  
"A pox on your first born, you foul wart on a salamander's tongue." Draco spat.  
"Now really, Draco! You should learn to use curses that actually use your wand!" Lupin gave Malfoy a scolding look. Harry, Malfoy and Ron were still standing around when Lupin looked up at the clock. "Oh, it's the end of class!" Lupin said. "See you all tomorrow! Remember your big project is due!" The class groaned.  
"What project?" Harry asked.  
"Oh don't worry, Harry, you don't have to do it!" Lupin smiled. Then he looked to Ron with a menacing air. "Ron, you see me later to discuss the requirements." As the class filed out, Harry couldn't help feeling guilty about Lupin's obvious favoritism. Harry stayed until all the others were gone, and then approached Professor Lupin's desk directly.  
"I don't think it's fair," Harry began.  
"What's not fair, that Malfoy's such an idiot? I could have told you that, silly!" Lupin cut Harry off, still smiling.  
"The way you're treating me differently than the other students!" Harry continued.  
"Don't worry, this isn't entirely off-canon! It was in the book, too!" Lupin still wasn't listening.  
"The book?" Harry wondered if Lupin meant their textbook, but he did not remember anything about teachers being obviously unfair in the reading for last night. It was late at night when he read it, though, and he might have missed something.  
"Yes, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, of course! Don't you read your own life's story?" Lupin was still assuming an overly fond air when talking to Harry and Harry wasn't sure he liked it. "I even gave you special tutoring sessions to help you overcome your fear of dementors! It's only natural, me being an old friend of your father and all!"  
"You knew my father?" Harry was more puzzled than ever.  
"Are you kidding? I am your father!" Lupin chuckled.  
"WHAT!??!" Harry thought of all the times people had told him that he looked like his assumed father, James Potter, all the way down the line. Now his illusions were shattered. He looked at Lupin and began to notice that the slope of his jaw was exactly the same as Harry's and then there was his...  
"Ha, ha! Just a little Star Wars humor!" Lupin practically giggled, if that's possible for a grown man. "Now hurry off to your next class before you're late! You've already missed lunch and Snape will be unhappy if you're tardy! You know how he gets!" Lupin winked. "Toodles!"  
"But why don't I have to do my homework?" Harry asked, still puzzled.  
"Because I love you, silly!" Lupin said.  
"What!?" Harry couldn't have heard Lupin correctly.  
"I mean, I love. . .excusing people from homework assignments! Now run along!"  
Harry didn't understand most of what Lupin just said, but he did know that, thank God, Lupin was not Harry's real father. He rushed off to the dungeons, hoping to be on time and to avoid losing points for Gryffindor.  
  
When Harry arrived in the Potions master's lair, Snape was teaching what seemed to be an important lesson. As usual, Neville Longbottom was cringing in his seat as he poured some beetle's legs into a dark and steaming concoction. Draco Malfoy was snickering gleefully and the Potions master himself was giving instructions.  
"Now don't forget class, if you fail to mix this potion correctly, it will cause you to sprout large and unpleasant warts all over your body." Snape was always very harsh with his students. "This will be on the midterm," Snape went on to say. "and any failing potions will be force-fed to their creators." This last comment made Harry's stomach sink with anguish. He knew that he could not successfully complete the potion after having missed over half of the instructions required to make it. Snape would surely not give Harry extra instruction to keep him from growing large warts. In fact, Snape would cackle with exaltation at the thought of Harry growing painful protrusions and being shamed in front of all his classmates. Harry considered skipping the class and getting Hermione to teach him to make the potion, but at that moment, Snape made eye contact with Harry, who was peeking into the back of the room.  
"Oh, Potter," Snape said.  
"Sorry for being late," Harry said. "You can ask Lupin where I was. He asked me to see him after class."  
"Really? That traitor," Snape mumbled. "Well, I'm sure that after I give you my little present, you will reconsider your choice of favorite teacher." Harry didn't get it. How could Snape, his least favorite teacher, be offering him a present? Most likely something to make me grow an extra ear or something, Harry thought. He resolved not to drink whatever potion Snape would hand him unless he absolutely had to.  
Harry looked up and noticed the class staring at him and giggling with their friends. Even Ron and Hermione were giggling. Did they think that something was going on between Harry and the Potions master? This was horrible.  
"Why would I want to take a present from you?" Harry said, just to make sure that no one thought that he and Snape were an item.  
"Because I love you," Snape said.  
"What!?" shrieked the class in unison. Some stared at Snape with malice and others stared at Harry with what he thought was longing. Malfoy was of this camp, and the look of "longing" on his face seemed like a cross between hunger and disappointment, as if someone had just taken away a very appealing snack and there was nothing he could do about it.  
"I mean, I love. . . giving presents to people! At unexpected times!" Now the class sighed with relief. Harry was also relieved. At least no one would suspect now that he and Snape were anything more than mortal enemies. Snape, who had been rummaging through his desk, now produced a package wrapped in black paper with green and silver ribbons. The strangest part of this package, however, was its shape. It was shaped like a heart.  
"Um, thanks," Harry said. "I'll open it later."  
"No, Harry," Snape said, still in most serious tone of voice. "I want to see your face when you discover the package's contents." Harry couldn't think of any excuse to avoid opening his gift, so he tore open the paper to find, to his surprise, a box of chocolates.  
"Ummm. . ." Harry stammered. Of all the things that Snape could give Harry as a present, Harry had never expected chocolates to be one of them. It was probably best not to eat any, Harry noted, since they might be poisoned.  
"Do you find them satisfactory?" Snape asked Harry with an intense gaze. The look on the teacher's face made Harry doubt even more that the chocolates were edible. He had to get out of the dungeon before anything else strange happened. Snape was acting, Harry thought, even more weird than usual.  
"May I be excused?" Harry said. "I need to use the restroom."  
"Of course," the potions master told Harry in a silky undertone. "You, Potter, may be excused for the remainder of class." That comment did not sound very promising.  
"But how can Potter be excused!?" Malfoy shrieked from the other end of the classroom.  
"He needs no further instruction," Snape replied.  
"But he missed the whole beginning of class, and you said this potion will be on the midterm!"  
"Mr. Potter is not required to take the midterm," the Potions master said with an air of finality. "Though, I must say, I would be very pleased if he were to ask for extra Potions instruction outside of class." Harry hoped this invitation to take extra classes was not actually a required assignment.  
"My father will hear about this," Malfoy mumbled, for the second time that day. He was beginning to get annoying. But then again, Malfoy was always a bit annoying.  
"Do I detect some. . .insolence?" Snape responded. "Ten points from Slytherin." Harry backed away slowly, expecting the armageddon. He couldn't help hearing as he left the room, however, Hermione's voice muttering,  
"Okay, that was way off-canon."  
  
As Harry walked down the corridor leading to the Gryffindor common room, he stopped to examine the chocolates more closely. After all, being caught with a heart-shaped box among all the other Gryffindors was not an enviable position. Harry could just imagine everyone asking him where he got the chocolates.  
"Who's the lucky girl, Harry?" he could picture Ron's twin brothers Fred and George asking. It would not be easy to explain that the chocolates came from Professor Snape without putting himself under suspicion. Sitting down on a bench next to a winged gargoyle with a pointed nose, Harry looked down at his gift.  
Though Harry had already noticed its color (black), he had not noticed the swirly green and silver writing which adorned the box.  
Salazar Slytherin's Sumptuous Sweets, the box proclaimed. Our sinful sweets are delicious dark chocolate snakes with green ooze filling. Guaranteed to make your loved ones scream with delight. The only chocolates with the Salazar Slytherin Guarantee of Quality. Scream with delight? Harry didn't like the sound of that. At least, however, Snape's choice of chocolates was not entirely out of character. Though he feared to do so, Harry felt he must open the box, at least out of courtesy to his professor. He lifted the lid slowly, as if real snakes were inside rather than chocolate ones, and a small slip of parchment slid out. Harry picked up the parchment, noticing the aroma of what might have been cologne twenty years ago, but now smelled more like a dead rat soaked in vinegar. Harry read:  
Dear Mr. Potter,  
You will note that I have inspected all of these confections for their safety by tasting them myself. I can assure you that none of them are poisoned, as I have experienced no adverse symptoms.  
Love Sincerely,  
Severus Snape Tasted them himself? Harry looked down to the box once more and noticed that, indeed, each chocolate had a large bite taken out of it. With a look of disgust, he raised his wand.  
"Destructo," he muttered, and the chocolates disappeared in a puff of smoke. Harry stood from his seat on the bench and replaced his wand in his robes. However, as he did so, he heard the unmistakable sound of girly giggles. Must be some more first years, Harry thought. They're always stunned by my celebrity at first. He began walking quickly so that the first years would not catch up with him, but as he turned the corner, he was spotted.  
"That must be Harry Potter!" one girl exclaimed.  
"Yeah, there's the scar," another confirmed.  
"Let's go talk to him!"  
"Definitely. I saw him earlier holding a heart-shaped box."  
"So soon?"  
"I know, you'd think the author would give some more time for setup."  
"Well, it's been twelve pages!"  
"What color was the box?" A third girl chimed in, seemingly worried.  
"Green, black and silver," the first two girls chorused triumphantly. The third seemed crushed.  
"Excuse me," Harry interjected. "But what are you talking about?"  
"He doesn't know. . ." A fourth girl said condescendingly. The other girls came in with a variety of comments.  
"You'd think he'd have picked up on it."  
"No, they never do."  
"I'm still waiting for Sirius to come in."  
"What don't I know?" Harry almost yelled, though he was wondering why they had mentioned the name Sirius. Could they be talking about Sirius Black, the traitorous murderer who was on the loose at Hogwarts? Or were they referring to Stubby Boardman, the famous wizarding rock singer?  
"You're in a fanfic, dear" the first girl who had spoken explained. "And we're here to try to find out what pairing the fic is about."  
"Fic?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Pairing?"  
"Never mind," the girl replied. "The point is, who gave you those chocolates that you were holding earlier?" Harry was hoping not to have to answer that question.  
"Well, it's sort of embarrassing," Harry said, blushing.  
"That's okay, dear. It's what we want."  
"Was it Draco?" another girl asked, excitedly.  
"Umm," Harry said. "Actually, Malfoy would never give me a box of chocolates." Then, rethinking his comment, Harry amended, "I hope."  
"You'd be surprised," a black-haired girl said, grinning. She was wearing a handmade slytherin badge and silver snake earrings.  
"Well, if Draco didn't give you the chocolates, who did?" asked another girl.  
"Yeah, was it Sirius?" Several girls with green-themed wardrobes groaned. "To give to Remus, obviously!" The girl who had spoken added.  
"No," Harry was very puzzled now.  
"Or Oliver!?" screeched a girl wearing a "Harry loves Oliver" T- shirt. Harry blushed, but none of the gathering noticed, since they were all turning on the one who had just spoken.  
"Oliver wouldn't give Harry chocolates, okay, Jessica?" One girl said, matter-of-factly.  
"Yeah, Harry/Oliver is such an off-canon pairing that it's not even funny." Harry heaved a sigh of relief. No one knew about his secret feelings for the Gryffindor Quidditch captain yet. Harry wasn't sure if it was love that he was feeling for Oliver Wood, but he certainly thought Oliver was desirable.  
"It was Snape," Harry admitted, finally. This caused the girls to stare at each other in shock for a minute before erupting all at once into separate arguments to describe this behavior.  
"It was really from Draco but he was too embarrassed to give it to Harry directly," one girl said to another.  
"No it was just a mental lapse on Snape's part. The real romance is yet to come when we meet Sirius," the other girl replied.  
"Maybe Harry doesn't like Snape at all and he wishes the chocolate is from Oliver," the girl in the T-shirt said.  
"Um. . ." Harry interrupted the turmoil. "Will you please stop talking about me like I'm not here?" The girls stopped talking.  
"Fine. I'll explain everything," the girl who had spoken first, and seemed to be the leader, sighed.  
"Good," Harry was getting very irritated, and he hoped the girl would explain herself quickly, before he got any more confused.  
"My name is Danielle, and I'm a Harry/Draco shipper."  
"Hello, Danielle," the girls chorused.  
"Shipper?" Harry asked.  
"Yes, it means I hope that you and Draco Malfoy will become a couple." Now Harry knew why this girl was so weird. "But not everyone here ships Harry/Draco. About half of us are Sirius/Remus, and Jessica here," Danielle indicated the girl in the T-shirt. "Ships Harry/Oliver. No one here ships Harry/Snape, but we're all slash fans." Harry didn't know what to think. Were they all crazy? Why did they all want him to get together with various Hogwarts guys?  
"What's a slash fan?" Harry asked, not really wanting to know the answer.  
"We like to pair guys with other guys. Now, Harry, is this a Harry/Snape fic? Because if it is, we don't need to hang around. We have some very high-stakes bets going with the Sirius/Remus people about this fic being Harry/Draco." Danielle seemed to think that Harry could answer this question, so he attempted it.  
"No, I don't think so. I mean I don't like Snape," Harry said, not mentioning Oliver.  
"Okay, so the fic's not really underway, yet," Danielle said. "Good. We'll be around later on tonight to check on you again. My friend Mitzie here," Danielle motioned to the girl with dark hair and snake earrings. "has a feeling that something important will happen tonight." Before Harry had a chance to ask any more questions, Danielle and the giggling slash fans began chattering among themselves and walking in another direction. All he could make out from their jumbled conversations was a single exchange:  
"I swear, Harry positively blushed when I mentioned Oliver Wood!"  
"You're crazy, Jessica. I don't even know why we took you along."  
  
As night fell on Hogwarts, Harry recalled the events of the day with distaste. Everyone in the school seemed to be acting strangely. Even Ron and Hermione were beginning to get on Harry's nerves. He remembered their conversation at dinner, trying to figure out what it meant. Why did Ron keep referring to Harry as "sweetums?" Why did Hermione start drooling unexplainably whenever she looked in Harry's direction? And why did Draco Malfoy sit at the Gryffindor table?  
Harry sighed. Though he had hoped today would be less puzzling than the day before, things had only gotten more confusing. He was glad that he was the only one awake in the Gryffindor boys' dorm. At least he had some time to collect his thoughts and try to piece together the strange conversations he kept overhearing about someone with dark hair and green eyes. Harry hoped that the students were not discussing Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban. After all, the pictures Harry had seen in the Daily Prophet were all in black and white, so Harry could not be sure of the fugitive's eye color. Every time he heard of Black, however, Harry remembered the unsettling fact that the murderer was looking for him, and, worse, he was nearby.  
Suddenly, Harry heard a noise in the hall outside the dormitory. Sirius Black! Harry thought squeamishly. He considered waking Ron for support in defeating Black, but Harry was sure that waking anyone else would just put them in danger. No, Harry would just have to fight Black alone, or die in the process. Click. The door of the dorm was being slowly opened from outside. Harry felt his senses heighten and he noticed, suddenly, that the room was faintly chilly for a boy dressed only in a thin pair of pajamas. The door was opening slowly, soundlessly. Harry reached for his wand on the bedside table. One inch, two inches. Harry raised his wand, ready for anything. The crack between the wall and door was opening wider and wider. Harry knew he could expect to see Black's greasy dark head popping through the opening any second. The door swung open at last. Harry blinked. He could feel a drop of sweat trickling down the back of his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see a small housefly buzzing around Neville Longbottom's dirty socks. Funny what things you notice when you're about to die, Harry thought.  
But there was no one behind the door. Through the rectangular opening in the dormitory wall, Harry could see the hallway quite clearly, due to the light provided by the fire still burning in the common room. Then, as Harry trembled with nervous anticipation, he saw a black boot thrust itself into the illuminated rectangle. Finally Sirius Black would show himself. However, to Harry's surprise, no man stepped into the doorway, but a boy. A blond boy. Draco Malfoy.  
"Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed. "How did you get the password?"  
"Some muggle girls gave it to me," Malfoy said silkily. "I found them walking around outside the Slytherin common room, and I gave them a wink. They gave me the password."  
"Your arrogance is disgusting," Harry said.  
"I don't think so," Malfoy said. "It got me to you." What was Malfoy talking about? Was he going to challenge Harry to a duel? Again? For the third time? But why would he go to all the trouble of sneaking into Harry's bedroom to deliver the challenge? It would have been so much easier, Harry reflected, for Malfoy to simply accost him during dinner, considering he was sitting directly across from Harry, and had been staring unpleasantly in Harry's direction the entire time.  
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry asked acidly.  
"I came to apologize for earlier," Malfoy said. Apologizing had never come easily to Malfoy, Harry recalled.  
"Earlier?" Harry asked.  
"All those teachers giving you favors. It just made me sick," Malfoy explained.  
"You came all the way here to tell me you were jealous of me earlier?" Harry was still puzzled at finding Malfoy in his room, so the fact that he was apologizing for what Harry considered to be his normal behavior came as an even greater surprise.  
"No, I just wanted to say that I acted very indecorously," Malfoy stepped closer to Harry, causing Harry to step backwards. "And I wasn't angry with you."  
"Oh really?" Harry said, eyeing Malfoy with disgust. "And this is such an interesting revelation that you had to come barging into my bedroom at night risking waking up all the other Gryffindor boys and possibly getting yourself expelled?"  
"Harry! You were worried about me!" Malfoy exclaimed.  
"I was just laying out your situation and the risks involved to get through your thick skull how incredibly insane you are." Malfoy muttered something that sounded like "insanely in love, you mean." However, when Dean Thomas groaned in his sleep to Harry's right, Harry jabbed Malfoy hard with his wand, causing the other boy to stop muttering.  
"What was that for?" Malfoy shrieked. "Will you let me explain?"  
"Sure!" Harry said in mock interest. "I'd just love to hear what was so important to you that you had to show up in MY BEDROOM to tell me about it!"  
"All those teachers giving you favors," Malfoy said. "Lupin excused you from homework, Snape excused you from the midterm. . . I didn't have anything to give you." Harry was puzzled. Why would Malfoy want to give Harry anything? But he didn't have time to ask questions, since Malfoy was continuing his recitation. "If I could, I would give you EVERYTHING, Harry!" he yelled. "You ARE my everything!"  
"Quiet!" Harry hissed. "You'll wake them up!"  
"I love you, Harry!" Malfoy declared. "Why should I care who knows it?!" Just then, Ron sat bolt upright in bed. Harry's stomach did a turn.  
"What was that?" Ron said, waving his head around maniacally. Harry thought quickly.  
"He loves. . . sneaking into other people's rooms at late hours of the night!" he said in Ron's general direction. This seemed to calm him a bit, because Ron said,  
"Okay. . . right-o," and went to sleep with a loud snore.  
"You have to leave. Now," Harry said. Malfoy was causing way too much disturbance, and Harry couldn't risk anyone waking up again.  
"Why should I leave, Harry?" Malfoy said, altogether too loudly. "My life is meaningless without you!"  
"Well you can just forget your life then!" Harry shouted.  
"Spiders!" Ron groaned, still asleep.  
"My heart burns for you!" Malfoy yelled.  
"Um, Malfoy?" Harry said.  
"Call me Draco, my sweet one!" said Malfoy.  
"Pookums," Ron added, still asleep.  
"Would you mind getting out of my bedroom?" Harry asked. He considered shouting and waking up the other boys, but Malfoy was taking care of that. Why hadn't Harry noticed that Malfoy was interested in him? The "slash fan" girl with dark hair had said "You'd be surprised," and Harry was very surprised. Suddenly Harry had a faint hope that this might all be a cruel joke designed to make Harry admit feelings for Malfoy so that the other boy could shame him in front of the entire school. However, Harry was not so lucky.  
"I have a present for you," Malfoy said, producing from his back pocket a single black rose. "I dyed it myself," he said with an air of pride.  
"Black?" Harry asked, as he took the rose from Malfoy gingerly, fully intending to throw the thing in the trash as soon as Malfoy left.  
"The muggle girls said that a black rose would be the best gift to give you. . . something about being irresistible. . ." Malfoy said. "Come to think of it, they also mentioned a ring or something, but I didn't know what they were talking about. . ."  
"Just get out, Malfoy," Harry said. He knew now that Malfoy was not joking. And this was too much for him to take.  
"All right, Potter," Malfoy said bitterly. "But if you ever change your mind, pass me a note. I'll be glad to meet you in the Astronomy tower anytime to talk over our relationship." Harry was not entirely sure that Malfoy wanted to talk to him at all, but he found himself nodding anyway and wishing it was Oliver who had visited him that night as the blond boy walked arrogantly out the door.  
  
When Malfoy was safely out of the boys' dorm, Harry considered what he had just seen. Up until this point, Harry had always assumed that Malfoy was an unfeeling bully, thinking only of himself and using all of his six brain cells in the hearty pursuit of annoying Harry and his associates as much as possible. What could account for Malfoy's sudden and abrupt change of character? Could it have something to do with the "fic" and "pairing" that Danielle told him about earlier? Harry dismissed this thought quickly. The girls from earlier were obviously deranged. Nothing they could say therefore, Harry reminded himself, could have any merit. What he needed, Harry thought, was to fall asleep and concentrate on the Quidditch match with Slytherin the next day. Certainly, things could not get any weirder. With this thought, Harry closed his eyes, looking forward to the coming day with pleasure. Oliver said he wanted to work on some moves before the match, Harry thought, eyes still closed.  
"Okay, I'm going in there," Harry heard someone say.  
"Don't, Danielle," a girl's voice said. "We can't interfere too much."  
"Yeah," added another female voice. "What if we ended up ruining their chances for true love with our meddling?"  
"Or maybe," added another voice in a hopeful tone. "You're all mental, and Harry's in love with Oliver!" The sound of several loud sighs and groans of disgust wafted through the door.  
"Honestly, give it up Jessica," said a female voice. "No one writes Harry/Oliver, and if they do, it's all wifebeaters and tight jeans."  
"That is such a lie!" screamed the girl who could only be Jessica, indignantly. "I've read loads of good Harry/Oliver fics! Just because Harry/Draco is your 'one true pairing' doesn't mean that everyone else has to like it too!"  
"Don't freak out," said another girl. "We were just saying that there's no real evidence for Harry/Oliver in this fic, at all."  
"As if Harry/Draco has any evidence!" Jessica retorted. Several indignant shrieks were heard.  
"Come on! We just saw Draco come out of Harry's room! In the middle of the night!"  
"I was talking about CANON!" Jessica said, loudly. All the girls were arguing loudly now, and Harry was finding it impossible to sleep. With a sigh, he dragged himself out of bed for the second time that night. He walked to the door and heaved it open, thoroughly surprising the girls outside.  
"Do you mind? Some of us are trying to sleep here!" Harry exclaimed, severely annoyed with his life during the past two days.  
"What happened?!" All the girls asked.  
"You're all being noisy and keeping me from getting any sleep, that's what happened!" Harry yelled. "I have a quidditch game tomorrow, for heaven's sake!" Several of the girls looked taken aback, but Danielle replied:  
"No, silly, what happened with Draco?"  
"I told him to get out of my room," Harry snapped, still very annoyed.  
"But what else happened?" Danielle pressed, giving Harry a knowing wink.  
"Nothing," Harry said.  
"Nothing!?" several girls exclaimed.  
"But Draco said it went well!" Danielle said disappointedly. Harry realized with dismay that Malfoy had told these girls the subject of their earlier conversation, probably twisting it to make himself look less foolish. He couldn't have stepped entirely out of character, after all. So, with a sigh, Harry recounted his own version of events from the moment Malfoy had entered the boys' dorm until the moment when Harry left his room to tell the girls to please be quiet, conveniently leaving out, of course, his wish that Oliver had been the one to enter his room late at night.  
"Then it was all a lie," a blonde girl lamented.  
"Don't get too discouraged," Danielle said. "We haven't lost the bet yet."  
"Yeah," a dark-haired girl who Harry seemed to remember was named Mitzie added. "The fics always start this way, but Harry comes around in the end." Harry considered saying that he would never have feelings for Malfoy, but was cut off by another girl, who said:  
"Wouldn't it be best to go check on the Sirius/Remus shippers, and make sure they haven't gotten any funny ideas?"  
"Good idea," Danielle said. "They got a little cocky when they saw Hermione talking to Sirius in the fire."  
"WHAT?" Harry had to speak. They must be talking about a different Sirius, Harry thought, for why would Hermione be talking to Sirius Black, a killer on Harry's trail, as if the two were bosom companions?  
"Sirius Black, dear," Danielle told Harry as if speaking to a small child. "Don't you know? No you wouldn't, this is third year. . ."  
"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded.  
"I think it's time you met your godfather," Danielle said, still using an unnervingly condescending tone, which she almost always employed when talking to Harry. Before Harry could say, "My WHAT!?" and demand an explanation, the crowd of green and silver clad girls swept him down the stairs into the Gryffindor common room.  
  
The scene in the common room was busier than Harry had ever seen at such a late hour of the night. Normally, after a certain hour, the only people to be found downstairs were a few scattered upperclassmen finishing homework. However, on this occasion, not only was Hermione gazing intently into the fireplace, but about a dozen other girls in various states of excitement, boredom and fatigue had thrust themselves over the couches and chairs to listen to Hermione's muttered conversation. Hermione didn't seem to mind the girls' presence. Worse, Harry could just make out in the fireplace the gaunt, skull-like face of Sirius Black, smiling as Hermione recounted the scene which had passed between Harry, Ron and Professor Lupin earlier that day. Several of the girls around the room seemed to be on the verge of wetting their pants at the mention of Professor Lupin's name. Harry wondered vaguely at this behavior before asking Hermione the question that burned in his mind.  
"Why are you talking to him?" Hermione looked up, causing the other girls to notice Harry at last.  
"Oh, Sirius?" Hermione didn't seem in the faintest bit alarmed that she had been consorting with a murderer.  
"Yes!" Harry shrieked. "You know, Sirius Black, the madman escaped from Azkaban who is OUT TO KILL ME!"  
"He's not out to kill you, Harry," Hermione said, calmly. The ghostly face in the fireplace remained silent. "Otherwise, why would I be chatting with him here as if we were bosom companions?"  
"How do you know!?" Harry was on the verge of hysteria.  
"For heaven's sake," Hermione was beginning to sound a little like Danielle. "Haven't you read Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban?"  
"Um, no," Harry said for the second time that day, wondering why both Hermione and Professor Lupin had read a book with his name in the title. Hermione gave a little sigh of exasperation.  
"If you had read Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, you would know that Sirius Black was framed by Peter Pettigrew, for his own murder and the murder of numerous muggles. The fact that Pettigrew is still alive alerts Professor Lupin to the fact that Sirius is not, in fact, guilty of these murders and he convinces you, Ron and myself to listen to Sirius' side of the story."  
"Oh," Harry said. Now Sirius Black's face opened its mouth.  
"So you see, Harry, I'm not actually a murderer. I'm your godfather. I am only at Hogwarts to take revenge on Peter Pettigrew, who betrayed your parents to Voldemort, and is, therefore, a sniveling idiot," the face concluded.  
"But where are you now? Won't the Ministry find you?" Harry asked.  
"I'm hiding out in the Shrieking Shack," Sirius' face said.  
"How are you getting food and stuff?" Harry was beginning to be concerned.  
"Remus is sneaking it down to me," Sirius said. Several girls giggled. "He's read Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, too."  
"You see?" Hermione added with a fiery look in her eye. "I'm not the only one around here who reads! Professor Lupin has read all of the Harry Potter series!"  
"He's a little crazy," Sirius said confidentially in Harry's direction. "He keeps telling me I have only two years to live. What a nutcase!" The girls giggled again. Hermione, however, seemed dead serious. Catching Harry's eye, she whispered so that Sirius couldn't hear:  
"He does, but I haven't the heart to tell him."  
"Can you imagine, telling me that I have to die in two years! Wouldn't that be terribly ironic? Just as I escaped from Azkaban, too! What a kidder!" Sirius continued. "He keeps telling me that I can't do anything to stop it! I'm a goner!" Hermione gave Harry a pitying look.  
"Let's just get down to it," a girl sitting next to Hermione on the couch before the fireplace said suddenly. "Are you in love with Remus?"  
  
"You can't be that forward!" shouted a green and silver clad girl behind Harry. "We're only on page twenty-five!"  
"Yes I can!" persisted the girl. "This may be the only time Sirius shows up in this chapter!" Hermione was rolling her eyes at the girl's obvious stupidity, but Sirius was laughing.  
"Don't be silly," Hermione said. "Sirius isn't gay!" Sirius' eyes flicked towards Harry for a moment, but then he laughed again.  
"Yeah," he said. "Why would I be gay? I mean, J.K. Rowling is a children's author!" He paused for a moment. "But that Harry sure is 'hott'. . ."  
"What!?" several girls shouted in unison.  
". . . I mean, it's hot in this fireplace! I gotta go!" Sirius' face wavered in the flames, and Harry shouted:  
"Don't leave yet! I haven't gotten to ask you why you're my godfather!" But Sirius disappeared. The girls surrounding Hermione groaned in disappointment.  
"That can't have been it," one grumbled.  
"That was it," Hermione said forcefully. "Now Harry and I need a moment alone." Hermione gave Harry a look that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.  
"We do?" Harry asked.  
"You do!?" asked several girls wearing green and silver with obvious alarm.  
"Yes," said Hermione. "We do. Now get out of the common room before I hex you all." There were several protests, but Hermione brandished her wand threateningly, causing the girls to scatter out the portrait hole and into the hallway.  
"What was that all about, Hermione?" Harry asked, once they were alone in the common room.  
"Don't pretend you don't know, my heavenly hunk,"  
"Um," said Harry. He did not know.  
"I have to explain everything that's been happening. Don't you want to know why Sirius is your godfather?" Harry wasn't sure he wanted to stay around Hermione, who was touching his arm in a suggestive manner. "We can sit by the fire. . ." Hermione said, obviously thinking that this was a tempting suggestion.  
"Uh," stammered Harry. "I should probably be heading to bed, with the quidditch game tomorrow and everything." Hermione looked disappointed.  
"But I love you!" she stammered.  
"What?" Harry asked.  
"I mean, I love. . .impressing people with my extensive knowledge of Harry Potter trivia!" Hermione corrected.  
"Will you let me go to bed now?" Harry asked wearily. He was getting increasingly alarmed and irritated with every passing second. Why was everyone he knew acting so strangely? Why had a group of uninvited muggles suddenly appeared at Hogwarts? And why did all the meals now consist of cold lumpy goo?  
"Okay, I suppose," she said. As Harry mounted the stairs to the boys' dormitories, however, he heard her mutter, "Ron was never this shy." Harry didn't exactly know what Hermione meant by that comment, but he found it hard to care, as he climbed into bed and drifted into a dreamless sleep.  
The obligatory end note: COMING! Oliver Wood returns to the fic! IN PERSON!!!!! Plus: THE FINALE YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR (Note to IP fans: and no, Draco doesn't fall off his broom during the quidditch match, but someone does!!!!)!  
  
SO REVIEW, YOU POND SCUM! NOW! 


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